Hell Hath No Words
by Comedicdrama
Summary: Dean Winchester hates witches. And he tends to let his mouth run wild. When the two intersect, there's a healthy serving of just deserts. Mute!Dean. Written for the Dean/Cas Summer Lovin' challenge.


**A/N: Written for the Dean/Cas Summer Lovin' Challenge. Based on the prompt "Mute". As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. I looked to continue my other stories now that these fun little challenges are out of the way.**

* * *

_Man, what the hell was that?_

Dean sat up, rubbing his head, pulling leaves and pieces of nature from his hair. He looked around, puzzled, not recognizing his surroundings. He tried to remember what lead him here, wherever here was, but he kept drawing a blank.

He pushed himself up off the hard patch of dirt he was laying in for some reason, trying to not get dizzy when he stood. It was dark. The moon was bright enough to cast an eerie glow on his surroundings, just enough to make out a pine forest.

In the distance, he noticed a faint glow of artificial light. It had to have been a town, so he headed towards it, like a moth to a flame. If he could find someone and get some answers, he'd feel a lot better.

As he hobbled towards the orange light, he felt a familiar lump in his pocket. His cellphone. He pulled it out, figuring he could call for help. He turned it on, hoping it still had some battery life. When it sprang to life, he pushed the first number he had on speed dial. Sam.

The phone didn't even ring twice before a frantic voice answered, "Dean? Where the hell are you?"

_Relax, Sammy. I'm fine._

"Hello?"

_Sam?_

"Dean, are you there?"

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear, and checked the reception. He had a full signal.

_Sam, this thing says I got good signal. Can you hear me?_

"Dean?"

_Sam?_

"Dean, I can hear you breathing. Say something."

_I am, dammit!_

"If you're there, give me some kind of sign."

Dean hung up the phone. It obviously wasn't working, or Sam was getting a horrible signal. So, he tried speed dial number 2, Castiel.

It rang a few times, but Dean expected that. Cas hardly knew how to use a phone, and he'd be surprised if he actually answered.

"Dean."

He wasn't expecting that. _Cas?_

"Dean, is that you?"

_Yeah, can you hear me?_

"Hello?"

_Sonuvabitch._

"Dean, where are you? I can come get you."

_I don't know, I'm trying to figure that out._

"Hello?"

Dean was beyond frustrated with technology... He ended the call and glared daggers at the piece of plastic in his hand. It didn't matter, though, since he made it to the light. It was a dim orange light fixed above a sign that read "Welcome to Hell."

Dean rolled his eyes, amused at the irony. He just got out of Hell, and now he's back. But this wasn't the Hell he remembered. This Hell smelled like pine trees. And there were stars. And a distant scent of greasy food.

The piece of plastic in his hand started vibrating. He had a new text. From Sam.

**Dude wher r u?**

Dean chuckled as he typed,** Im in Hell**

Almost immediately after hitting the send button, he received a reply.** WHAT?**

**Jst woke up here. I dunno. I trid callin.**

**Im getting Cas**

Great. He didn't want Cas to worry, but he knew that Cas was likely the only one to be able to help him if he actually was in Hell... again. He glanced around some more, and there were a few houses, but there were no lights on. There was a road near the Hell sign, but there was no traffic. The area seemed dead. Further down the road was another faint light.

**Dean, r u alive?**

**Duh Sammy.**

**Thn how r u in Hell?**

**Thts wht the sign said. Welcome to Hell.**

**Hld on.**

Dean's phone went silent; no more texts from his brother. He didn't want to go to one of the houses, and he didn't want to trek down the road. He just wanted to know what was going on.

Within seconds, the sound of rustling wings appeared behind him. He turned to the familiar sound, and smiled.

_Cas._

The angel looked at Dean with mixed emotions, walked forward, and wrapped his arms around him in a deep embrace. "Dean."

Dean backed out of the hug, putting his hands up._ Whoa there, Huggy McHuggerson. What's going on?_

Cas looked at Dean, a combination of anger and worry in his voice. "Dean, it's been days. Where have you been?"

Dean smiled and pointed around him._ Here. I just woke up... Mind filling me in on what happened?_

"Dean? Why won't you answer me?"

_Are you deaf? What was I just doing?_

The angel titled his head in confusion, "I do not understand. Is this a game?"

_What are you talking about?_

"Your mouth is moving, but you appear to be silent."

_Cas?_

"I will have to ask Sam about this."

In the blink of an eye, Cas was gone, leaving Dean in Hell, speechless.

_I guess I'll wait here, then..._

Dean didn't have to wait too long. Cas returned soon with a stern look on his face. Dean walked over to him, _What'd I do now?_

Cas didn't answer him.

_Hey, if you're not gonna say anything..._

Before Dean could finish however, Cas pulled out a pen and notepad from his pocket, handing both items to Dean, who took both items hesitantly and with suspicion.

_Uh, Cas? What's the deal?_

"It would appear that you have fallen under a spell Dean. Sam has informed me that you were last dealing with witches. I believe that may explain your... predicament."

_What the hell does that mean?_

"Dean, I don't think you realize it, but you have no voice."

Cas watched as Dean's mouth flapped wildly and his arms flailed.

"If you wish to communicate, you'll need to use these."

Dean opened the notepad and scribbled.

**Shit.**

"Don't worry. Sam is going to get it back, we just have to be patient. I was told to keep you occupied and far away from the witches as it seems you tend to lose your temper around them."

**I hate witches.**

"I'm aware."

Dean's stomach started to grumble and Cas looked at him curiously.

**I'm hungry.**

"Oh... I shall find you food."

Dean reached out and grabbed Cas, preventing him from leaving as he quickly scribbled.

**No. Follow me.**

Dean trusted his nose above most of his other senses, and his nose was telling him there was greasy food nearby. Sure enough, further down the road, the dim light turned out to be the "Hell in a Handbasket" diner. Open 24 hours.

Dean's stomach did a triumphant flip, and he turned and smiled at Cas, pushing him into the restaurant.

The diner was empty and it was decorated in a Hell theme... Flames, red devils, pitchforks, all things that made Dean cringe. If only they knew...

They were greeted by an elderly waitress. "Just the two of you?"

Dean nodded quickly, and they followed the woman to a booth. She handed them menus, and asked for their drink orders. Cas didn't want anything, but Dean quickly scribbled a note. **Water for him. Coffee for me.** And he gave her his best smile.

She paused a moment, giving the pair of them an incredulous look before walking away to get their drinks. Cas was staring at Dean silently like usual, and it was starting to bother Dean.

He quickly scribbled, **It's too quiet.**

"Your brother is working on a solution."

Dean stared at him, waiting for him to continue, but it was evident that was all he had to say. Dean grabbed the menu and looked it over, frustrated at Cas.

The waitress returned with their drinks, and asked if they were ready to order. Dean nodded excitedly, and pointed to the biggest cheeseburger he could find.

"And for him?"

Dean looked over at Cas who sat quietly, staring at Dean. He flipped the page in his menu and pointed at a slice of pie.

She wrote down the order and took the menus, rolling her eyes as she walked away.

Dean scribbled down another note, **So, do you want to tell me how you found me?**

"I was told that you were in Hell. But that you were still alive. So I visited every city named Hell in the United States until I found you."

**Where am I?**

"Hell, Michigan."

Dean couldn't help but laugh. Well, not laugh, but his body violently shook with the motions of laughter. Of all places in the world to get sent, Hell, Michigan.

"Is something wrong?"

**No. It's just funny.**

"Oh..."

The waitress appeared from the kitchen, as if she could sense the tension. "Here you are, boys. Dig in."

Dean smiled at her and gave a thumbs up. Cas stared at Dean, but Dean wasn't going to let that bother him now that he had food. He dug in, feeling as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. He may have been mute, but he still sounded like a pig as he scarfed down every bit of the burger.

When he was done, he contemplated if he should lick the plate clean or not, but he noticed Cas was still staring at him.

He wiped his hands on his pants and grabbed the notepad, **Is there something you feel like sharing?**

Cas blinked, and looked at the table, noticing the pie was in front of him. He scooted it across the table in front of Dean.

Dean smiled and shook his head. **Not what I meant, but thanks.**

"What did you mean?"

Dean took a bite of the pie before scribbling, **I don't know. How about that hug? What was that about?**

Cas swallowed hard and blinked at Dean. "I was... merely relieved to find you alive."

**Right.**

Dean took a few more bites of his pie, feeling the tension in the air.

**Does that mean you missed me?**

"Of course."

**Okay then.**

Dean finished off his pie as Cas continued to watch, an odd look on his face. Dean huffed and scribbled more on his notepad.

**So is this where you confess your love for me and I silently accept it because I have no way to say no?**

Cas tilted his head, "I don't understand."

Dean growled and started scribbling away at his notepad, but his writing was disrupted when Cas' cellphone started to ring. The ring tone happened to be Dean's favorite song, and he was amazed that Cas knew the song, and more amazed that Cas knew how to set ring tones.

Cas answered it. Only three people had his number, Sam, Bobby, and himself, so he figured it had to be Sam.

"So you have it?" Cas glanced at Dean. "Where are you? We'll be there momentarily."

Cas hung up the phone and grabbed Dean's arm, zapping them both out of the diner in the blink of an eye; Dean leaving behind his notepad with the scribbled drawing of a stick figure angel hugging a stick figure person.

When Dean could focus again, he noticed he was in a hotel room in God-knows-where America, looking at Sam who held a glowing jar triumphantly in his hands.

"Missing something, Dean?"

Dean smiled like a kid in a candy store, and made grabby-hands at the jar.

"Say, Cas, do you know how this is supposed to work? Does he have to, like, swallow it, or something?"

Dean looked slightly disgusted at the thought of swallowing his own voice. Or so he assumed it was his voice. He looked to Cas hopefully.

"You open the jar. The voice will find its owner."

Sam nodded and then opened the jar, and a glowing blob shot out, heading directly for Dean's face.

The impact must have knocked him on his back, because next thing he knew, he was looking at the ceiling.

"Son of a bitch..." Dean rubbed his throat and then the back of his head as he sat up from the floor.

Sam laughed, "It worked!"

Dean climbed up and stood next to Cas. "Hi."

"Hello, Dean."

"So, about that thing in the diner? You know, if you decide to confess anything... even though I have a voice now, I wouldn't say no."


End file.
